


Revenge in every sense of the word

by targaryenbastard



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, game of thrones
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/targaryenbastard/pseuds/targaryenbastard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war was finally over and they had won. But even with victory Arya felt nervous, on edge, like there was still something bad waiting to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I accidentally deleted it. Sucks.

The war was finally over and they had won. But even with victory Arya felt nervous, on edge, like there was still something bad waiting to happen. She swallowed her thoughts as her husband turned to face her. Aegon, despite what was expected of him as the new King, still kept his promise to wed her when all was over. She wasn't expecting it, not really. Not once has it crossed her mind that she'd be queen and never was there a desire to be one. And so when Aegon won back his throne she expected him to take a true lady to wife.

A year after their arrival in Westeros, two weeks after his coronation, they had easily settled into life at the Keep. She was used to it, having servants cater to her every whim, but she never expected life to be duller than the one she had at Winterfell. Unfortunately, being queen was ten times worse than being a lady.

She had to spend her moments cooped up with the ladies of court, and when she did have the chance to wander through the castle grounds, it was slow and steady pace with two dozen knights and ladies in tow. Not a week has past and already she was sick of the life she was now living, yearning for the freedom she used to enjoy in the Free Cities, her adventures as one of the Faceless Men.

Not a month has passed when she knocked on the door of Aegon's solar just before going to bed, opening it to find her husband bent in front of numerous tomes of books and a handful of parchment. Ever since they had arrived they had only managed to share a bed once or twice. He was always either up late with matters of the kingdom or too tired from looking over the restoration of what was destroyed during the war.

Her husband looked up and managed a small, tired smile.

"May I speak to you?" She asked politely, so unlike how she was before. She frowned, staying here had dulled her as well.

"Sit." He said as he made to clear up his desk, storing the parchment into drawers and replacing the books on the shelf. "To what do I owe the honor?" He asked as he sat down before her, his eyes hinting with playfulness.

"I wish to go back North, and visit my family."

"But we haven't even spent some time together ever since we won the war." He looked genuinely sad, but so was she. It's been too long since she'd last seen her family and seeing as Aegon was going nowhere, not even her chambers, this was probably the best time for a reunion.

"That's why I think it'd be best if I use this time for my family. While you're sorting out the kingdom. You won't need me here anyways, Dany and the rest of the small council will be enough help." She tried to push back the bitterness she felt as she said the last part, but failed. Though Aegon didn't seem to notice. He took a deep breath then sighed in defeat. He knew he wasn't gonna win this with Arya, subdued as she is, and she knew that too.

"Fine. But take Duck with you."

"Then we'll leave at first light." He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"But wouldn't you want to inform your family first?" He continued to look at her and when she smirked he knew. "You already have, haven't you?"

"I've been planning this for weeks. I hate having to sit and gossip with those ladies, you of all people should know that. And allowing me only to ride around the grounds at a turtle's pace. It's like you don't know me at all." She played at sounding hurt but ended up laughing when she saw that pained look on his face. "I was only joking. But I do hate those ladies."

"I know." She stood and made her way to the door.

"Goodnight Aegon." She whispered and left, her husband having taken out his papers from the drawers even before she reached the door, submerging himself in work.

***

Their journey North had been quick, and once settled in Arya had no wish to go back to the inanities of court. The only thing missing, she thought, was Griff. The driven young sellsword she met in her youth, who wooed and courted her till she couldn't take no more and just had to say yes. But he was gone now, she knew. Gone was the carefree boy she had known and loved, replaced by Aegon Targaryen VI, King of the Seven Kingdoms. A man who was more committed to his throne than his wife. But that's probably how fate designed it, she thought. Look at Cersei and Elia and Rhaella. Queens of the realm but never of their husband's heart, fate truly was cruel to women.

Her days at Winterfell became weeks, that slowly turned into months. She simply could not be away from her siblings. Bran, who was now the Lord of Winterfell; Rickon, taller than she is and as wild as any wildling, and Sansa, beautiful as ever. The last remaining Starks, they clicked together like pieces of a puzzle, finally joining together to form a beautiful landscape, together they rebuilt Winterfell.

It would never be what it was, but it could be better. At least that was what Bran said over dinner one night, three months after she had arrived at Winterfell. They were laughing over something a stable boy had told Rickon when a question burst out of Sansa's mouth.

"Isn't your husband, I mean the King, asking you to return back to the Keep?"

"No, not really. I told him I preferred it here and he he didn't complain." Sansa was suddenly suspicious of Arya's husband but she didn't voice out her doubt. Instead she continued to ask questions.

"How much have you been writing to each other?" Bran was staring at Sansa with knowing eyes but she ignored him.

"Well, he's been writing less since Rolly returned for King's Landing. He might be busy is all."

"How often?" Sansa pushed.

"He's only written to me once this month. But what of it?"

"Oh nothing." Sansa and Bran shared a look then returned to their meal.

***

Two months after Arya's departure to Winterfell, Arianne Martell arrived with more than a family reunion in mind. She thought it was time for Dorne to reap what the deserve.

***

He was tired, and alone. And Arianne took that as an opportunity to begin hatching out plans.

***

Sansa entered Arya's room without knocking and found her emerging from her bath, she'd seen Arya naked numerous times in her childhood, but to see her fully grown with a lady's body made her eyes widen, but that wasn't what brought her into a state of shock. Arya, her little sister, who hated dresses and played at being a boy was soon going to be a mother.

"What are you gaping at?" Arya said as she found her sister staring at her nude figure.

"Arya... You're pregnant." A look of confusion painted her face as she looked down to study her abdomen.

"I'm getting fat is all." She replied as she saw nothing wrong with her body.

"Haven't you been feeling ill lately? This is it Arya, oh I am so happy for you! We finally have a prince!" She ran out calling attention to everyone in the castle, informing them of the wonderful news. Leaving her sister alone to dress, still confused at Sansa's accusation.

***

"She's four moons in, my lady." The maester declared after examining Arya. From this angle she looked incredibly pregnant was what Sansa thought.

"But it can't be. The last time we shared a bed was- Oh."

"Yes, oh. I can't believe you were getting big and you never even thought, even after the morning sickness and dizzy spells. Gods Arya you truly are ignorant when it comes to these kind of matters." The maester bowed and took his leave. Sansa took her sister's hand and sat beside her on the bed, helping her sit up.

"When do you plan on telling your husband?" Arya's face fell and she avoided Sansa's gaze.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just. What if he doesn't want the baby?" Arya felt her load lighten as she opened up her fears to her sister.

"Nonsense. No father could ever turn away their children. Look at Jon, father brought him home despite his being a bastard. And he loved him as much as he loved his true born children. Your fear is misplaced sister. Your son or daughter would probably be the most spoiled child in the Seven Kingdoms." Arya tried at a smiled, and succeeded at a small one.

"I hope so." She whispered, placing her hand on the small bump at her center.

***

The letter arrived in King's Landing two weeks after Arya's pregnancy was confirmed. Varys brought the letter to her solar.

"My lady, we have news from Winterfell." His face was calm, clean from emotions that would betray the content of the letter, but deep inside Arianne knew what kind of news it held.

"Burn it. "She told Varys. "And make sure he never finds out."

"Yes, my lady."

***

She entered his solar and found him staring out into the cities.

"Aegon." She said, announcing her presence. He looked back and motioned for her to join him.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" He said it with such pride, and staring out at the city he had rebuilt, she thought, he should be.

"I have news for you." He looked at her, violet eyes seeming to pierce into her soul.

"I'm with child."


	2. Chapter 2

"Is it mine?" He asked after they've both been seated. His hands shaking as he waited for her reply. She looked offended at his question.

"Of course it's yours. I wouldn't be here if it weren't. Besides, do you think me a harlot, to sleep with men as I warm your bed?" A tear slid down her cheek and Aegon felt bad for accusing her of such.

"I'm sorry, it's just. It was never meant to happen." He sounded pained as he said those words and Arianne knew she would triumph that night.

"Then this child would be a bastard. I thought things have changed since Robert's death, I never thought that our new king would litter bastards as before." It was Aegon's turn to be offended.

"Never compare me to the bastard that killed my father. This child shall be born as my legitimate son or daughter. No child of mine will ever be a bastard."

"And what of the mother? Will she be forever shamed as the woman that seduced the king while his wife was away? A wife that would rather freeze in the North than stay beside her husband." Aegon thought for a moment, a look of defeat in his eyes, before breathed out a heavy sigh.

"No, house Martell has been shamed one too many times. I will wed you, and you shall become my second wife." A wide smile spread across her face, and genuine happiness enveloped Arianne.

"Thank you, Your Grace." She took her leave and left Aegon to ponder his sins, no, not his sins. He would never think this child an accident or a sign of weakness, this will be a child borne of love.

***

A month, two, three has passed and Aegon was yet to return a single letter. She began to worry after the fifth letter was sent and still there was no reply. Now, after dozens of ravens have left for kings landing and none returning with replies she felt her fears gnawing at her once more. 

Maybe the child was unwanted by her father. Despite Sansa's word of her encouragement, telling her that she must be mistaken, that he's probably busy and would be ecstatic if he found out about their son, she was still uneasy. This was it, the uneasiness she'd been feeling in the beginning, her nightmares brought to life.

Arya found her gently caressing the growing bump at her center as she stared at the horizon.

"Arya?" She didn't turn around, instead she kept her eyes focused on the sunset.

"If it isn't a response, don't bother talking to me." Sansa sighed then moved to embrace her sister.   
Instead of pushing her away, Arya snuggled closer, burying herself in her sister's arms. And in that moment, Sansa knew they weren't children anymore.

"He doesn't want us anymore." Arya whispered, tears staining Sansa's gown as she pressed her face into the fabric. "I knew it Sansa. And it only took a few months for him to realize I wasn't what he wanted. I was only a tool, something to help him win back his throne. And now that he has it... He didn't even have the balls to tell me, not a letter, or a messenger, just silence." Her voice was full of rage and yet it sounded soft and wounded to Sansa's ears. And it broke her heart to hear the strongest woman she'd ever known weep of a broken heart. It was fate telling her that no one was strong enough when the time came.

***

His qualms of marrying Arianne began to pass after a month with still no word from Arya. 

A dozen scenarios ran through his mind, her finding the blacksmith she spoke of in her sleep, her deciding he wasn't worth it after all and simply deciding to leave him, or her just saying she'd have enough of him and would simply want to stop. 

She'd never wanted this anyway. It was him who dragged her into the war, forcing her to mass an underground army in his name, then under the black of night, attack his enemies, catching them unawares, and later when the war was as good as won he arrived mounted on his dragon, Dany beside him, parading their way through the kingdom, burning what remained of the great armies then taking the crown for himself. 

It was him who forced her to play Queen and Lady when all she wanted was to roam free and live an adventure. And so it didn't surprise him that she would leave.

***

The wedding was two days away and Arianne wanted everything to be perfect. The food, the dress, and the army just a day's ride away from Winterfell. Ensuring her child the throne.

***

She was asleep when Rickon came running into her room, barking orders as he helped her up from the bed. She was only a month from the birthing bed and Rickon knew it wasn't good to stress her out.

"What's happening?" She asked as she eased herself into breeches and a tunic. Rickon scrambling around the room, placing necessities in a bag.

"The castle will be under attack, we're evacuating before they arrive at the gates." He was helping her to the door and she saw people scrambling down the stairs, Sansa was beside them in a matter of minutes.

"Have you got everything you need?" Her hand was wrapped around her waist, helping Arya support her weight.

"Yes, Rickon has everything. Sansa, who's at the gates?" Sansa exchanged a pained look with Rickon before answering. Panting slightly as they hurried towards the base of the tower.

"King's men." Arya's eyes widened.

"Why?"

"We don't know. Bran should know, he sees things after all. That and spies were found scaling the walls."

"Why?" She said it more to herself but still Sansa replied.

"We'll know when we're out. Don't worry Arya, no one will hurt you and your son. Men are marching out to aid us, and Winterfell has enough men to withstand an attack, We've had enough of the castle repaired for that as well, you should know, having overlooked the reconstruction yourself."

"Then where are we heading? Where are we all gonna evacuate to."

"The Godswood. It's the easiest place to escape from if need be while still being close enough to the castle. We'll be fine Arya, don't worry." And Arya believed her.

***

It was two weeks before the King's men were forced to surrender. What remained of them stood at the center of the great hall. Waiting judgment from the Lords and Ladies of the House.

"Who's your commander? Come forward." A battered man supported by two squires came forward, one of his legs appeared to be broken while he bled from the side and the shoulder, a deep gash also ran from his left cheek to the upper right corner of his face.

"I command, m'lord." His voice was laced his pain and it pierced Arya's heart for she knew this man, fought beside him on their quest to regain the throne. A southron bastard brought to knighthood.

"And tell me, ser, your reasons for launching an attack on Winterfell and the Starks?"

"We were merely ordered m'lord. We were told to kill the girl, the queen, and her babe." He raised his good arm towards Arya. She frowned but said nothing.

"And who ordered you to commit such a crime?" The knight was about to answer when Arya cut him off. Her voice strong and powerful, the voice, not of a queen, but of someone who won a revolution.

"They are king's men, from who would they take orders than from the King?" The Lord's bannermen began to mutter amongst themselves until Bran silenced them all, Rickon chuckled as he ran his fingers through Shaggydog's fur. Bran gave him a look and he silenced as well. Arya stood and spoke once more.

"Your lives will be spared, all of you who have yielded. You shall return to King's Landing after you've been healed and are ready for travel, but you will not speak of defeat but of triumph. Of how you overcame the powers of Winterfell. That the North's bannermen were too late, the deed done by the time the army had marched in. Arya Stark is dead. Do you hear me?"

All eyes were on her all bearing the same shade of concern. Even Rickon, carefree spirit that he is, was worried.

"But sister-"

"The King wants me dead, then so be it. Tell me knight, what news of my husband do you bear me?"

"He- He is to wed m'lady. The Lady Martell is with child, three moons gone, and the king wishes not to shame her or her house." Her face remained fierce despite the pain in her chest. The knight's   
head was lowered, avoiding her gaze, ashamed of what he has been forced to do.

"Tell him House Stark sends his regards. Tell him... The North remembers." She moved towards the exit of the great hall, Nymeria at her heels, followed by Sansa who walked briskly to her side, forever at her aid, and Rickon the last to follow. Bran remained, being the Lord, he had to keep her promise and sent for the maester and some of the servants to attend to what's left of the men.

***

Aegon was halfway to the Riverlands when what was left of the army she sent to Winterfell arrived. They were as she sent them, as strong as horses with only scars and their dwindled number to tell of the battle. She hosted the commander in her solar eager for some good news.

"Well?"

"She is dead m'lady. Her and the babe."

"What of Winterfell? The Lords and Lady?"

"They- After learning that it was the King's orders they... yielded. They did not wish to start a war and even helped us patch up the sick after the battle took place and provided us rations for our way back." Her eyebrows raised at the mention of the Starks' behavior, but putting history in mind, they've lost too much to war and have only begun to rebuild their stronghold. Surely that and their other siblings mattered more.

"Very well then, you may leave." On his way out he heard the knight mutter something like 'The North Remembers' but was too elated to bother.

***

Aegon received the raven moments after he arrived at the Twins. It broke his heart to know that his wife had died along with a child he never even knew about. The reasons were unstated but learning it from the Lord of Winterfell himself, had any doubts uprooted and thrown away. He sent a reply immediately, begging for her body to be sent to King's Landing, that he and the people could mourn her properly. Days later another raven arrived stating that it would be unwise to send the body, for it was too badly damaged by the fire.

A fire, Aegon thought, his ally, would be the demise of his wife and unborn child. He would've been born in a few weeks time by the sound of it. He would have had an heir, a bouncing baby boy with her eyes and his hair. But all it was now was a what if. All he had now was Arianne and their child. Girl or boy he has yet to know, but either way he would love him/her, the love he would've given his firstborn he'd dedicate to his second child and never would he let this one be lost to him like the first.

***

Arya was screaming at the top of her lungs as Sansa and the maester urged her to push harder.

"I'm pushing as hard as I can." Another scream.

"Come on Arya, just a little bit more. The head is almost out."

And after a day's worth of labor, her son was in her arms sleeping peacefully.

"He's beautiful." Sansa cooed as she stroked his white-gold hair. Her eyes were sparkling at the sight of the child but no one eyes would glow in wonder as much as Arya's.

"He is isn't he. Such a beautiful little boy, my boy." she whispered after giving him a feather light kiss on the forehead.

"What shall you name him? He must have a dragon's name. I mean look at him?" And he definitely was a dragon, pale skin and even paler hair. He was all Targaryen except when he opens his eyes. It might all change.

"Aemon. He'll be Aemon."

"Why Aemon?"

"The maester at castle black was an Aemon. He was clever and dutiful, and most of all he was good of heart. I want my son to be just like him. Except, I want him to be as fierce and wild as we Starks are."

"And never have the madness and foolishness of the Targaryens."

"Never."

***

Aegon was absent as Arianne fought on the birthing bed. It took her nearly two days before she delivered their child into the world. A true Dornishman with no sign of the Targaryens anywhere in her features. Despite that. Arianne knew she would be enough to tie again to her forever.


	3. Chapter 3

8 years later

"Mama, where's my father?" Everyone turned their attention to Aemon Stark, then at each other, all wearing worried expressions on their faces. Sansa was first to answer.

"Aemon, you're father is-" Arya cut her of.

"Your father is at King's Landing my son." They all stared wide-eyed at Arya as she caressed her son's cheek. "And it's about time we paid him a visit."

***

Three children. They've had three children since they were married and none have turned out to be sons. Aegon was worried for he'd never have an heir and Arianne kept arguing that in Dorne women were allowed to rule.

"But this isn't Dorne, Arianne." It was happening again. Their arguments became constant after their second child was born. With Dany barren they had no heir to hold the throne if something were to happen to them and they wouldn't just let go of something they fought so hard to get back.

A knock sounded on the door and Aeg on called for whoever it is to enter. Dany eyed them with concern, knowing full well what they were shouting about. She handed him the letter and waited for a reaction.

"From Winterfell? It's been too long."

"They probably think so as well. Go on, read it." He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment, reading Sansa Stark-Tyrell's neat handwriting.

"I didn't know they visited Winterfell." Arianne mumbled as she peeked at the letter.

"They've already lost so much, it's reasonable that Sansa would like to visit her remaining family as often as possible." Dany replied, slightly irritated.

"They're coming for a visit and will arrive in two weeks time."

"I'd thought they'd send an earlier bird."

"It seemed Willas met them at the Riverlands then are moving south. Says Willas misses his brother and sister and that they've never met their children."

"They have children?" Arianne asked. Dany rolled her eyes at her.

"Triplets. Two boys and a girl. Some girls were just born lucky." Dany whispered the last part loud enough for only Arianne to hear.

"At least I have children."

"Mine was killed in the womb by a maegi. If it wasn't so then we wouldn't need you to pop out an heir, which you're failing terribly at, by the way." Arianne was about to retort when Aegon called her attention.

"Have everything ready for their arrival. We'll be receiving two of the mightiest houses in the seven kingdoms. Be sure to make everything perfect."

***

Guards were lined along the streets from the gates of King's Landing to the gates of the Red Keep. People were waving at Sansa Tyrell and her husband, calling out compliments. As well as to the Lords and Lady of Winterfell, Bran with Meera and their son by his side, and Rickon riding beside two hooded figures.

"Look at all the people Mama." Aemon's voice was full of wonder and Rickon couldn't help but laugh.

"They're all cheering for you." He whispered in his ear, though Arya still heard. She gave Rickon a smirk.

"They will be."

***

They greeted them at the gate. and escorted their party into the great hall. Aegon noticed two hooded figures near the end of their van but forgot about them as Margaery and Loras made their appearance. Grabbing at the children they've yet to seen, and everyone was swallowed in a wave of hugs and kisses.

"Where's my daddy now mama?" He asked tugging on Arya's skirts. She wore a very un-Arya-like dress and had Sansa braid her hair into that difficult updo southron ladies were too fond of. Aemon, with his white-gold hair was a bit harder to hid so they managed with a cloak and hood. She looked directly at his eyes which were a reflection of hers.  
"Soon."

They made their way up with the rest, Aegon chatting merrily with Bran and Willas as they moved to the dining hall, a feast held in their presence. Rickon never let her side as they seated themselves near the end of the table, still hidden from Aegon's sight. When everyone was seated Sansa winked at Arya and she smiled. Everything was going according to plan.

***

Halfway through the meal Sansa gave Arya another wink before facing Aegon and asking the dreaded question.

"So where are your lovely children? I have yet to meet the handsome heir to the Iron Throne." She smiled so beautifully Arya thought she'd go blind. Aegon shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable when Arianne spoke up.

"We have yet to have a boy, I'm afraid. But our girls are upstairs with the maester and will join us shortly."

"Or Aegon could simply legitimize his bastards and have an heir in no time." Loras blurted out and everyone burst out in laughter, e veryone but Arianne and Aegon himself. Only after the laughter died down did Aegon speak.

"I don't have any bastards. I try and stay faithful to my wife, unlike past kings you've known" Arya snorted and heads turned towards the direction of the unfamiliar guest. Though no one questioned her at first, believing her to be a companion of Meera Stark, Arya saw a spark of recognition in Dany's eyes once the Hand saw her.

"It's a bit ironic isn't it. Talking about being faithful when your wife is nothing but a knocked up little-"

"There are children." Sansa warned her.

"And who are you, pray tell, to speak to the king as so." Aegon was wound up with anger. He hated nothing more than being compared to Robert Baratheon. Dany placed her hand on his shoulder, telling him to calm down but he didn't, he stood up expecting the stranger to answer.

"No one particularly important, I assure you." She stood up as well, placed her hand on Aemon's shoulders motioni ng him to stand.

"Come, it seems we aren't welcome at this table anymore." Dany craned her neck to have a better view of the child. Seeing a hint of white-gold peaking out from under the hood she whispered into Sansa's ear.

"What's going on?" Sansa gave her a smile.

"You'll see."

"I command you to return and face me. Have you no respect for your King?" Everyone could feel the tension radiating off Aegon, even Arianne was getting worried. Arya paused mid step and turned to face him. They were at least twelve feet away from each other, far enough that Arya needn't worry of being recognized, though Aemon remained facing the door. Waiting for his mother to run and leave with him for he truly was tired.

"But have you earned that crown? Your Grace. Was it not a girl that raised an army and defeated your foes before you came parading around with your dragons?" She was hitting the right strings and knew he was fit to burst. "You don't deserve that crown you wave about other people's faces. All you are is a common sellsword." Arianne stood up and called for the guards.

"Enough! Arrest that woman. What she's done is treason."

The guards were inches away from the two of them, and tired as he was he couldn't not intervene.

"No!" The Eight year old's voice rang throughout the hall, stopping the guards in their tracks. His hood fell down as he braced himself in front of his mother, Arm's wide as to ward of anyone who'd dare come near.

"Take one step and I'll stick you with the pointy end." He yelled pulling a small sword from his hip. Sansa, Willas, Bran, Meera, Rickon, and Dany all smiled in unison at the boy who was so much like his mother.

"Nymeria, Shaggydog, Summer, to me." he followed and the three direwolves came bursting through the door positioning themselves between Aemon and the guards, teeth bared.

"We will take our leave now... You Grace." She added the last part as an insult and she knew he felt it. The rest of the Starks and the Tyrells stood up as well, asked for leave then followed their nephew and his mother out. Dany stood as the door shut behind them.

"I will take my leave as well."

***

They were summoned to the throne room, every one of them. Arya had finished dressing Aemon when Sansa arrived with her triplets tugging around her skirts.

"Let me fix your hair." Arya shook her head.

"Leave it down. He loves it that way." A mischievous grin graced her features as she exited the room, all four children in tow.

***

The dragons were present but not one of the Starks cringed while the rest of court kept around the edges. Some thought it was because of the direwolves, but it wasn't.

This made Aegon uneasy but he paid no mind as Aemon entered with Arya and his cousins. He couldn't not see the resemblance between the two of them. And the timeline fit perfectly. If Aemon wasn't his son then Dany must've grown a cock.

Once she reached the center Arya curtsied, mocking him with the graceful way she said 'You Grace' her silky brown locks fluttering in the light breeze coming from the windows.

"You summoned us, Your Grace." Bran spoke, his voice full of authority, as befits the Lord of Winterfell.

"You have lied to me. That in itself is treason. Having me believe that my wife, the queen, was dead, taking away my son and rightful heir, then coming to court to insult me. Each and every one of you deserve to die."

"Is that what the dragons are for?" It was Aemon who spoke and he walked closer to the dragons, who stirred as he approached, looking as uneasy as dragons could be. His hand outstretched, inches from touching the belly of the largest of the three he stopped, the dragon hissing and growling at his presence. He looked back at Arya who went to fetch him back to the center of the room. She too had no fear of the dragons and, as with her son, they see med uneasy around her.

A puzzled expression covered both Dany and Aegon's faces, but no one spoke. Arianne looked worried. Her children could never approach the dragon as the child had done minutes before.

"I want to go see father now, mama." Aemon spoke, rubbing at his eyes as if he was tired.

"Soon my love, once we've finished."

"But he keeps talking nonsense, mama. He's looking for his baby and his queen when they're beside him. I want to see father." Aemon began to sound whiney, as Arya had when she was young and the Stark siblings smiled, though rather briefly.

"Take the boy back to his chambers." Aegon ordered, he didn't think it was right to have a child see and hear such things and that it would be better for him to remain unaware. Arya moved to cover her child.

"You're not touching him." The anger in her voice was reflected in the eyes of the direwolves, the guards stood hovering around the Starks wondering whether to progress or simply leave them be. Aegon sighed then waved them off.

"You can't let her dictate your actions like that, you're the king!"

"And what does that make you? The King's whore?" Arya chuckled and Aemon stood beside her as if he heard nothing, one arm around Arya's waist, the other buried in Nymeria's fur.

***

The trial was withheld and everyone returned to their respective chambers. No matter how much she was enjoying this, she thought it was time to to let Aemon know who his father is. She sent a raven to Dany requesting her to deliver Aegon at the dragon pits by sunset. They had things to settle.

***

The doors were open when he arrived and Dany's unsullied were nowhere to be seen. He entered to find Arya and her son sitting at one end of the pit, one of the direwolves at their side.

The dragon's were on the opposite side of the pit, still at unease at the presence of the Starks. He approached his wife and child.

"There he is." S he heard Arya say when he was a few feet away. Aemon looked up, searching the room for someone, then looked back at his mother, demanding her where. She pointed to him and he frowned, disappointment in his eyes.

"I'm a Stark." He said, his eyes stubborn. "Nymeria is mine as much as yours. So I don't believe he's my father." His sons words cut him deep. He sat beside them, forming a circle on the floor.

"You aren't my father." He said, as stubbornly as Arya, and he couldn't help but smile.

"But I am, and you are the prince of the Seven Kingdoms, heir to the Iron Throne."

"Then why would you ask bad people to kill us?" He was genuinely confused, but he didn't let it show. Arya remained expressionless on the sidelines. Watching her son interact with his father.

"But you did. Uncle Rickon told me all about it." Arya's eyes betrayed a spark of emotion which disappeared the moment he saw it.

"Then tell me."

"There was a siege and mother w as heavy with child, with me. Uncle Rickon and Aunt Sansa helped her evacuate cos they were only a day's ride away. The battle lasted 12 days and after whoever survived yielded, mother pardoned them after learning their intention of killing us." Aemon cringed at the word but didn't interrupt. "Telling them they had to tell you that we were dead and that The North Remembers."

"I'm sorry, but, I had nothing to do with that. I grieved for you and your mother when I learned you died, they even told me it was a fire that killed you and that they couldn't send your body here because of the damage."

"But they were kings men. We even have some of the armor in an abandoned barn! Sometimes we would suit straw men with those armor and train. I'm good at killing king's men." He added the last part with a smile and Arya couldn't help but swell with pride at her son, laughing loudly as he said the words.

"Yes you are. I saw the holes in the armor before we left. And now you can do it for real."

***

The dragons hissed and roared at the other side of the pit as his son fell limp in Arya's arms. He scrambled to get up, calling for the guards to chain them up. The first five that came rushing forward were burnt to a crisp. the next two crushed by Drogon's tail as he thrashed wildly about. About thirty more men died before the dragons had calmed and Aemon was revived.  
"I like slipping into Nymeria better." Aegon's eyes widened.


	4. Chapter 4

Only a handful of people knew what transpired at the dragon pit last night. Dany had to know, of course. It was her men that were slaughtered and it was her right. But other than that only the Starks were privy to the information.

The sun had not risen, but he had. He couldn't sleep, was a better way of putting it. And after what he witnessed he doubted he ever could.

'The North remembers' mother and child whispered in unison just as they crossed him to leave. Those three words sent a chill down his spine that, even hours after they'd been said, he still felt it.

He continued to stare beyond his window, wondering what everything meant. Of the boy who looked to be his exact replica; of the story he shared of a siege when he was still in the womb; and of the dragons thrashing around the pits, burning and crushing every man that came before them.

As the sun came into view, he dressed for court and left to seek out the Starks for answers before anything else.

***

The chambers were empty and he'd assumed everyone was at the dining halls to break their fast but found it empty as well. On his way out he saw Dany making her way to the courtyard.

He found her standing there, simply staring at the closed gates. He placed a hand on her shoulder but she remained as still as stone.

"The North Remembers." She said as she turned and left without further acknowledgment.

***

"I'm leaving for Winterfell." She announced at breakfast a month after the Stark's unwarranted departure.

"To do what, pray tell?"

"Matters that don't concern you, You Grace."

"I am the King, everything concerns me." Dany gave him the look that told him that it was her dragons, her unsullied, and her friendship with Arya Stark that won the war. Aegon bowed his head in contemplation.

"Then I'll be coming with you." He said after a moment.

"The Starks are expecting me, and me alone. It would not do to work against their wishes. You of all people should know that." The rampaging dragons flashed through his mind and he almost submitted. Almost.

"Do as you wish, Your Grace. It won't be I that will reap their vengeance." She whispered as she stood and left him alone.

***

Arianne Martell woke to the sound of flapping wings. After overhearing the conversation between Aegon and Daenerys, she knew it would be natural that the two would ride their dragons to Winterfell, both of them not having the patience to go horseback or by means of carriages.

So it came as a surprise to her when she found Aegon in his solar looking out the windows a look of both rage and sadness in his eyes. She didn't dare approach him, not with his current state, but instead she sought out Varys. Varys knew the implications of Aegon choosing Arya over Arianne. Even though it was she that one the war, and the small folk and some Lords favored her over Arianne, a lady will always be what they seek when their eyes move to find the queen, not a warrior.

***

After hearing wings beating in the distance Aegon scurried over to the dragon pits only to find them empty. He didn't need to question the guards of their whereabouts for in all of King's Landing only Daenerys Stormborn would dare approach those dragons.

***

"We expected you to arrive sooner." Was how Arya greeted Dany as she removed herself from Drogon's back. It was almost midnight when she arrived and she was surprised to find all three of them waiting for her by the gates.

"How did you know?" Of course she had to ask. Even though Arya knew she'd have gone riding her dragons no one would know the exact time it'd take her to arrive.

"Bran always knows." Arya replied with a playful smirk as she escorted her into her chambers. They parted ways with the Lord of Winterfell and Rickon Stark once they reached the second landing.

"What is your reason for summoning me to Winterfell, my lady?" She gave Arya a curtsy, and Arya almost slapped her.

"Be glad you're now The Hand of the King instead of simply being the Mother of Dragons, or else I might have slapped you silly." Arya chided as she elbowed Dany playfully on the sides.

"Simply being the Mother of Dragons? Do you insult me, wolf?"

"No, if I were insulting you I would have said you are lucky to be Hand than every single title you held dear while standing on that throne of yours at Mereen."

"You always did have a way with words." Was all Dany said before they both erupted in bouts of laughter.

"Oh, I miss the good old days when we were allowed to kill without being subject to the 'king's justice'." Arya said while she played at wiping a tear from her eye.

"In the good old days, I was a queen and not a servant. I have half a mind to kill my nephew and take the throne for myself. And then we could have all the fun in the world." Dany poured herself a cup of wine and handed one to Arya as well. "Truly Arya, why summon me to the North?"

"Because Winter is Coming."

***

A snowstorm was raging outside while the three Starks and Dany broke their fast in Bran's solar.

"Winter is Coming. How so? Summer has only began and you tell me that Winter is Coming." Dany asked finally breaking the silence. Her dragons were currently residing in the great halls so they had no choice but to stay in the solar.

"Well, winter will always be coming, but, what we're talking about is the long night that never ends as priests of the red faith call it."

"You're talking about the others?"

"Precisely."

"But how could you know?"

"The same way Bran saw you coming the other night. He can see things." Rickon made it sound as if Bran was crazy. but Dany didn't really notice.

"But how?"

"Remember how the Stark's are the blood of the first men? Well, we've inherited their gifts. Brandon over here is the last greenseer."

"But aren't they just stories?"

"You'd be surprised how much of those stories are true."


	5. Chapter 5

"That close?" She asked staring at Bran's hand on the map which appeared too close to the wall already.

"That's what I saw. I've warned Jon against ranging, thankfully the free-folk have all been evacuated from beyond the wall, well, what's left of them that is."

"What do you mean what's left of them."

"During the war of the five kings, the wildlings waged a war of their own against castle black. But, when they were defeated they scattered, others fled back to their old haunts, and a few headed for the water. Those that fled back to their homes are either wights or back at castle black, those that went with the old crone are now either slaves or wights with fins."

"Wights with fins? They aren't confined to the ground, my lady. And I do believe, that given they've found a creature large enough to carry them, then they'd be on us from all over."

"How long?"

"That's what makes it difficult. Time is perceived differently by the trees. Sometimes I see my father honing Ice by the springs and the next I'm seeing Rickon holding a babe in his arms." Dany raised her brows at the last part, but Bran dismissed her questions with a flick of his hand.

"Today isn't the day. That's all we know, and all we can hope for."

***

Two weeks at Winterfell and Dany received a summons from His Grace requesting her presence again at court, though they all knew it wasn't matters of the court bothering Aegon's mind but news of his son.

"Is his presence really not welcome here?" She asked with a deep sigh. She knew how it felt to be without one's child and knowing that yours was alive and well though out of reach must hurt more.

"My opinion isn't the one that matters." Was all Arya said in reply.

"But if your son wished it, then you would allow him to go?"

"If my son happens to mutter the words Aegon and Father in the same breath then I'll fly him there in a heartbeat. But it seems my son is rather disinterested."

"Have you questioned him about it?"

"No." Dany continued to stare at her, pressing for a more detailed answer.

"He always asks about his father, Dany. Who he is, where he's been, what he's done. But after showing him Aegon, and meeting him face to face, he's never asked me once. He doesn't even mention visiting him at all. When Benjen asks him about it when they're at play he merely shrugs it off and distracts the child. And I'm pretty sure he'd do the same to me when I ask the questions."

"Is it because of the attack, maybe? What really happened when the two of them met?"

"Nothing, it was rather short."

"Nothing? He's your child, Arya. I doubt that nothing happened during that night, especially since thirty of my finest men were killed."

"You think all your men are your finest men."

"Well, they are. But enough of that. Tell me."

"He's not my father." They both turned to find Aemon standing in the doorway.

"But he is, child. Blood and bone."

"He left us for that woman. The queen."

"He didn't leave you. He loved you, and grieved for you, the both of you, when he thought you two had passed."

"But I checked!" His voice was shrill, reminding them both that they were still speaking to a child. They could both hear the tears resounding in his next words, but none came to make an appearance. "That night, I came to the maester and he told me. Mine and my mother's death came after the engagement. After the woman knew she was to have a baby. Everyone I've asked has told me a man can't have more than one wife and that any child from another woman would be a bastard. If he didn't know then why else would bad people come for us?"

Both woman were silent, Arya in awe at what his son has accomplished in the short time they've spent at the keep and Dany in shame for no words she'd utter could cover up the truth this child had unearthed.

"You can't even deny it!" he yelled before finally running to leave the room. Dany didn't know what to do with herself, was she to stand and follow the boy and try to comfort him, telling him that Aegon didn't know, that it was all an accident? But that would only turn out for the worse. Despite his age, Aemon seemed to know and understand far too much, and telling him that his father made a mistake with Arianne would only darken his image of his father.

"I'll go." Arya spoke as she went after her son.

***

"Do you have to leave now?" She felt her heart skip a beat when she heard his voice. It was a too early in the morning for children to be up, and given their last encounter she doubted he wanted to see her.

"Yes. Your fa- Aegon is summoning me back to the keep." Cold as it was, she noticed that Aemon wore only one layer of clothing and slippers instead of the boots Arya usually had him wear.

"The dragons, will you be taking them all with you?" He looked at Drogon longingly, running his fingers ove the scales of his neck, if dragons could purr, Drogon would've.

"Aren't you cold?" She asked, reaching out and wrapping her arms around the child, noticing how warm his skin felt while still feeling cool to the touch.

"Fire is in my blood." He whispered then fell limp and her arms. She shifted him in his arms and carried him back to his chambers. Small as she may be, Dany still had some strength about her. But it seemed too easy, like the cold winter wind was holding him aloft and she was merely directing him to the right location.

***

"I thought you'd already left?" Arya asked as she sat beside Daenerys at the great hall, watching her dragons shuffle about the empty space.

"I was going to. But-"

"But Aemon, I know. I followed him out."

"Does he always feel like that?" She remembered the feel of his skin as she held him close.

"Like what? Warm? Cool?"

"Both."

"Yes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"I don't know. I thought you might have had an answer."

***

"Do you have to travel down with Dany?" Rickon asked as she settled herself onto Viserion's back.

"I have to, unless you're offering to be the king's northern pet, which is unlikely."

"Can't anyone else go? What about Aemon?"

"Aemon wants to stay and I'm not about to say no to him. God knows what will happen if I drag him south like father did me. And no, Bran's Lord of Winterfell, he can't leave. And unfortunately, the King won't settle for anyone who isn't a Stark. So, goodbye brother." Rickon let out a grunt, Arya knew ridding her brother with guilt would frustrate him, though move him was impossible.

"I'll be back. Aemon, don't forget to practice your archery. You don't want to end up like Uncle Bran at that age. He couldn't even shoot a rock." His son burst into laughter that both warmed her heart and sent a stab through it.

"I will be the best archer by the time you're back."

"You say that like I'd be gone long. I'm riding a dragon, I can be here in days time. Just send me a raven when you start missing me too badly."

"I'm not a child anymore, mother. I'm can do well on my own."

"That's my boy."

***

"Ah, the wolf bitch arrives. And where's your bastard cub?" Arianne entered her chambers without warning, running her fingers along her belongings, then rubbing them against he skirt as if they were filthy. Arya stopped unpacking and walked towards Arianne, she leaned in and placed her lips a hair's length from the other's ear.

"Getting his throne back." whispered in her ear. Arianne tensed up, her eyes wide as Arya made to move back to her cases, grey eyes never leaving the Dornish queen's dark brown. Collecting herself, Arianne left, chin up in defiance.

"Never."


	6. Chapter 6

"Don't hold it." He dropped his stance and looked back to see his mother leaning against a post. His eyes widened as he called as he ran and engulfed her in his embrace.

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon!"

"Uncle Rickon told me you couldn't sleep properly and that your aim hasn't been improving."

"That's a lie, don't go listening to your mother now. She's trying to get you to stick me." Rickon accused, as he ran up to their side, bow in hand. "He's gotten pretty good at it, actually. Like he was born to hold a bow. How fares you, dear sister?" Arya pried the bow from Rickon's hand, pulled three arrows from Aemon's quiver and launched one after the other.

"Face, tits, balls. Yeah, I still have it in me." Both boys laughed at the smug look on Arya's face.

"Amazing. Though, not what I meant. How was King's Landing?"

"Dreadful. And Arianne's presence doesn't really help the matter." She saw her son shift his attention back to his bow at the mention of Arianne and the two exchanged a knowing glance. Arya placed a hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to take a shot.

"Hit them exactly where I did and I'll have them make lemon cakes for you." A wide grin spread across his face and he moved to shoot some arrows.

***

"You don't have to be so cocky." Aemon laughed as his uncle plucked the arrows from his latest victims. "At that rate, we'll be out of armor and you'll have to make do with simply hitting straw. Look at these dents. I doubt your mother's smith friend will be able to fix them."

"Who says I can't fix what?" Gendry emerged from the armory, wiping sweat away from his face.

"Uncle here says you're too old to go about smashing with that hammer of yours." Aemon took aim and fired another round, missing Rickon's shoulder by a hair.

"Was that on purpose?" Rickon yelled from across the field, waving the arrows at Aemon's direction.

"Of course it wasn't. If I had done that on purpose I would have hit you where it counted. I've been trained to kill after all."

"Seven hells! These aren't dents, these are holes!" Gendry looked incredulous as he examined the holes Aemon's arrows cut into the armor.

"You might as well blame yourself. It's your arrowheads that caused them."

"Right you are, boy. But still, your mother couldn't pierce through armor this thick in her prime."

"Are you implying that I'm old, ser? Or that I can't kill you with an arrow?" Arya muttered playful as she made her way across the yard. Aemon ran to her as if he was still a child, but instead of jumping into his mother's arms, it was his turn to lift her up.

"I still can't believe you're almost a man grown. Look at you, nearly as tall as Ser Gendry Waters over here."

"I am definitely taller than Gendry."

"I doubt that. Not even your father bested me in height." Everyone fell silent at what Gendry said. After a few minutes with nothing but silence, confusion began to grown on Gendry's face.

"What? What did I say? Have I-"

"It's about time a bathed. I'll see you all later at supper." Aemon handed his bow to his uncle, kissed Arya once on the cheek then fled to his chambers.

"Stupid."

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Would my son be walking away if you didn't?"

"All I said was his father never bested me in height. If he wants I can take it back."

"It's not about the height, stupid."

"What do you- Oh."

"Sound like another boy you used to know?" Arya smacked the armor against his chest before walking away herself.

"Are you gonna hit me with that as well?" Gendry asked, hands held before him like a shield.

"Nope, terrorizing you wouldn't bring me much joy. Besides, I have to respect the elderly." Rickon gave him a playful wink before walking off, leaving Gendry to collect the rest of the armor they use to suit up their straw men.

***

He picked up one of the finished helms and examined the Dragon detailing near the front, a mark of the crown.

"I'm sorry about earlier." Gendry managed, pausing from his work. "I didn't know things were like that between you and him."

"What happened to 'father'?"

"Don't give me that. I know how you feel, except I might've felt worse since you still become a lord while I was a bastard born in Flea Bottom."

"But you didn't bother looking for your father." Gendry didn't expect Aemon to reply, so when he did he paused his work and motioned for him to sit with him at his living quarters.

"This is nice, much warmer than the rest of Winterfell. Incredibly helpful with it being winter and all."

"It's the real reason for my wanting to be a smith."

"Truly?"

"No."

"Did you love my mother?" The question came out of nowhere and with Aemon's attention focused at him he was forced to reply.

"Yes."

"Then why did you leave?"

"Do they tell you everything around here?" Aemon let loose a light laugh that made Gendry smile, though the thought of someone telling Aemon really did bother him.

"But, yes. I did... Love your... err... mother. This is really awkward. Just in case you're not feeling it."

"What?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"I don't know, it just popped into my mind."

"Really, Aemon, tell me why."

"Would you have left us for another woman? If you were to have married my mother?"

"I would've been too lowborn to marry your moth-"

"But would you have left us if you did?"

Gendry let out a deep sigh, knowing he'd never get out of this conversation with Aemon. "No."

"Why?"

"Because I loved your mother. No matter what happened I wouldn't leave. Not again."

There was a moments silence as the Aemon digested Gendry's answer. A chuckle erupted from Gendry's lips as he looked back up at Aemon, meeting his grey eyes.

"You know, back when we were with the brotherhood, there was this time when we stopped at a brothel and your mother was so angry at me for talking to a whore, a whore I didn't even like, and it was the loveliest thing I've ever seen." Gendry was staring at nothing, smiling as he replayed the scene in his head and Aemon knew how much this man had loved his mother. Gendry continued. "It was one of those things that made me regret joining the brotherhood and driving her away. We were a family, me and her. She was the only person I trusted and she, I, but I broke it. I left her to join something that, in the end, was nothing. She won the war. She brought death and justice to those that deserved it. And if I'd have stayed, then, we would have done it together. And things probably wouldn't have ended up this badly." He said the last part in a whisper, probably hoping Aemon wouldn't hear but he did and he agreed. But it wouldn't change anything now and all it is is a big what if.

***

"It's here." Aemon gasped as he awoke from his fitful sleep. He saw them, the same way Uncle Bran had described them. Pale, icy skin with bright blue eyes, even in his dream they gave off a feeling of dread.

He dressed himself and ran to his mothers chambers. He had to warn her, and they all had to convene. Aunt Dany had to be called, the Dragons were needed. He found his mother dressed leathers, lacing up her boots then stuffing one with a dagger.

"Good you're awake." She said as she slipped on her sword belt.

"I saw them." His voice was low but heavy.

"Then you should know that a tunic won't protect you. Get dressed then head to your Uncle's solar. Winter is coming."

***

"Is Aunt Dany on her way?" He asked. His fingers were trembling from the cold, that once never even bothered him. Bran nodded then motioned for him to take a seat.

"We'll be heading for castle black. Jon's been reporting wild storms and is crediting them to the others. The red priestess tells him it is almost upon us."

***

"You can't follow her North. I won't allow it." Arianne was desperate to keep her husband from leaving.

"I never asked for your permission. And besides, I am the King I need no one's permission." He said before exiting the room. Arianne could do nothing but sit back and sigh. She'd succeeded for years. Kept him well away from the North and from developing some sort of relationship with his son. But now, with an urgent call from the Starks, and with Dany tight-lipped about the details, she couldn't keep him tied up any longer. She stood up once again, determined to win this little battle she sought out Varys.

***

"I want her dead, her and her little bastard. And I want it done before Aegon arrives at Winterfell. Oh, and Varys. Make haste, we're going North as well." A faceless man should be more than able to do the work, Arianne thought as Varys took his leave.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the real chapter 7. The old one was Chapter 8. Haha

She could see the castle black from afar, though castle wasn't what she'd use to describe the cluster of towers settled at the base of the wall. It's been a while since she'd last traveled by horse and she was numb from all the sitting. A shadow passed over them, she looked up to find Dany and her dragons flying past, heading towards castle black as well. She felt Aemon's excitement at the sight of the dragon's contented as he was with the family's direwolves he still longed for Viserion whenever Dany had to fly back to the keep.

They were a short distance away from Castle Black when she felt something amiss in their van. She turned her horse around searching for whatever it was that caused this strange sensation in her gut. She wasn't that far down when an arrow landed on a tree to her right, the arrow missing her neck by a hair's length. She jumped off and braced herself for combat. It didn't come as a surprise when she saw one of her former brothers emerge from the shadows.

"They've gotten desperate." She stated as she pulled her sword from it's scabbard. Gendry had finished replicating needle only hours before their departure from Winterfell and she was glad at a chance to test it out.

"Dance, little girl." The man taunted as he launched himself at Arya.

"Only if you dance with me." She missed this, she thought every time his blade met hers, the two of them participants in a delicate dance with the the sound of steel on steel serving as their music. But it had to end. She had more important matters waiting for her at castle black. That and her son would worry. No matter how old Aemon became he would always be seeking out his mother.

She took two steps back, surprising her opponent with her sudden withdrawal, then when he was about to lunge, shifted to the side and brought her blade down in an arc before stabbing him through the abdomen.

"I really enjoyed you." She said, sheathing her weapon before kicking away his and kneeling down beside him. "Goodbye old friend." She waited till his life's blood had gone completely from his body before shutting his eyes and leaving him for the wolves. It was a shame that was how she's see a brother from the house of Black and White.

***

"Where've you been?" Bran inquired as Arya came riding in.

"Shut it, It's not like I've been gone long."

"You've been gone long enough. Get your horse to the stable then meet us at Jon's solar. Ask anyone for help if you can't find it." He left her to fend to her horse then half ran half walked his way back to the Commander's Tower. It had come as a great surprise when Arya came back to find his brother walking. Bran, who Maester Luwin said would never have use of his legs again. He said it was the children of the forest that fixed up his leg. Rickon japed that he'd only been pretending so he could ride on Hodor's back during their journey beyond the wall. But either way Arya had been ecstatic with the news and had even asked Bran to climb one of the half finished towers with her, only to be told off by Sansa.

After feeding and unsaddling her horse she followed Bran up to the tower where she found everyone seated except Melisandre of Asshai who was staring into her flames. Her presence didn't bother her as it does Gendry who tries his best to keep her out of sight. Why, she didn't know, and all she could think of was maybe seeing the red priestess reminded him so much of Thoros and Beric.

She remembered the first time she'd encountered the red priestess. It was during the war, her war, and the woman had appeared in her tent one day. She was standing by the fire at the center, gazing at it. It took her three tries before she caught the woman's attention. She didn't kill her, of course, she was familiar with their work and knew that this woman was no harm, knowing that what they did was usually trickery.

Her voice had been soft and seductive when she told her of the prince that was promised. And that she was there to serve her. Of course, Arya declined. She had no god, and her past experience with the Lord of Light did nothing to help either. But the woman had been so persuasive, she even told her of her would be victory. Described it in detail before she left, telling her where to find her if she'd come looking.

When the war was won and the woman was brought to trial Arya spared her. No words were uttered between them, she merely bowed and left. And now here they were again.

Jon smiled at her from across the table as she sat herself down. It's been years since they'd last seen each other, too long to be away from the brother who'd loved her most as a child. She returned his smile with the promise of catching up afterwards.

"They're close. Too close." Melisandre murmured, eyes still fixed on her fire and Bran seconded.

"When are we to depart then?" 

"What? You call for us to meet them in the field?" Mance was outraged as Arya's proposal.

"Then what do you propose? That we wait for them to destroy the wall?"

"Yes. That wall was built with sorcery for the sole purpose of keeping the Others from getting past. And with only a quarter of out en wielding proper weapons, we'll have nothing against them."

"But you forget, we have drago-"

"Three dragons won't suffice when you're going against an endless wave of white walkers." A chill swept in through the window that blew out half the candles in the room. They exchanged looks but Arya pressed on.

"I wasn't finished. We have dragons and dragon glass. Enough to supply every man here." Mance didn't reply but a look of mistrust remained on his features. "Now I ask again, when are we to attack?"

"At first light." Jon answered, his voice sounding so much like their fathers. "And we retreat at dusk. It would be too dangerous to keep at it under the darkness." Jon continued, talking about the distribution of men. Every man able with a bow or crossbow would remain atop the wall. The rest will be evenly distributed before the part of the wall adjacent to Castle Black.

"And what of the other castles?" Rickon remarked on how they were all to be positioned at castle black and that the other castle remained unprotected.

"Because this is where they'll be attacking. Not Eastwatch, nor the Queensgate or any other castle. Just here." Bran replied with a rather calm voice. his eyes had gone glassy and Jon continued to brief them. When he was done talking and everyone seemed to be in sync with everybody else the door creaked open and Aemon peeked in.

Melisandre looked up from her fire, Bran's eyes refocused. "He can't be here." They both uttered in unison, a hint of urgency and dread in their tone. Everyone turned their attention from the boy at the door to Melisandre and Bran who continued as if nothing was amiss. Knowing no one would explain, Jon adjourned the meeting and walked to his nephews side and immediately chatted him up. It's been too long since the two had met as well.

Just before Arya could walk out the door, Melisandre grabbed her arm and insisted she leave and have a word. She looked back to see Bran still seated in his chair, unmoving and nodded, shut the door then headed back to her seat.

"Talk." Was all she said as invitation, and talk they did.

"He must leave."

"Immediately." Bran added.

"Why? This is his battle as much as it is ours."

"But there are dangers to be seen in this battle. And he is merely a... a child."

"A child? My son is moons away from becoming a man grown. And I've fought battles when I was years younger than he is now. Being a child won't hold him back, I assure you." She was aboutto stand when Bran took hold of her arm, desperation clear in his boy.

"I don't know what that woman saw but something bad is happening, Arya."

"Something bad is happening, Bran. White walkers are out there waiting to slay each and every one of us before doing the rest to the kingdom."

"No, this is different. Far worse than-"

"How could something be far worse tha-"

"Listen to me! The things I saw, they weren't normal, not that this is, but still. Everything was a rush of black, white and red. There were castles falling and people dying. I try to see more but all I see is Aemon. Arya, I might not be so skilled in this art, but it doesn't take an expert to know that Aemon in the midst of this war would bring disaster. And it'd be best if you send him back to Winterfell."

"I can't."

"Don't tell me you can't, Arya. You're his mother."

"You don't understand. He won't. You're right, Bran, I am his mother and you should know that he's as stubborn as I was. Even more. And asking him to head back for Winterfell to keep him safe when everyone he loves is at risk of dying will be useless."

"Then brace yourself sister. Winter is coming." He released his grip on her arm then left, leaving her with Melisandre.

"Is it the same for you as well?"

"Yes."

"Can't you try again?"

"I did, and still am but it seems like we've been blocked. I see nothing but dead ends, blue eyes, and your son." Arya sighed, nodded, then left as well. Leaving Melisandre to peer into her fire.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made a mistake, this was the previous chapter 7. I skipped the real one by mistake.

An eerie silence hung in the air, mixing itself with the fog that clouded their vision. they'd been poised there for two hours and yet the onslaught was yet to begin. 

Arya looked up and wondered how Aemon was faring atop the wall. They had convinced him to hang back with the archers after two hours with twenty people talking him down. He was hesitant at first, but his skill with the bow won out his swordsmanship and there he was eagle-eyed with Bran, watching over the rest of them.

There was a click and everyone was suddenly on their toes, even the direwolves seemed on edge all of a sudden and a buffet of wind gushed over them courtesy of the dragons taking flight. As Daenerys gained altitude, it took her a while to blow the horn, startled by the number of white walkers present. But when she did, she was also the first to fire.

They had to hold back at first, due to the intensity of the heat erupting from the dragons' mouths but after the cold had once again settled, and snow began re-covering the burnt patches it was as if nothing had happened.

There was no sound to their arrival but the one Dany had produced. No thuds, or cracks, or scratches. Their enemy made as much sound as snow falling and it worried her, but only a bit. A tight grip on her Valyrian steel sword, Arya danced away cutting left and right as silent as her foes.

She could hear things falling here and there and was certain it was one of theirs, not because of the thud that came after the sharp clang of steel on armor but of the human cries of pain that comes after the blow that would end their lives. But even then she dared not look, afraid that one wrong move and it might be her, that once she'd fallen she'd never be found again and it had nothing to do with self preservation but of the fact that Aemon had no father, not the way one should truly have, and the thought of him losing a mother hurt more than any cut or bruise she's yet to receive.

It seemed endless, their struggle. A beginning and no end. She counted more losses than gains, every grunt and cry of pain piercing her like none of the white walkers weapons have. Once she dared, looking around she saw Jon battling three on one. Rickon was in the same predicament only he had Gendry swinging away at his flank. Dany was trying her best to keep the hoard back, though flooding the enemy with flames had become difficult once both armies had met and Arya knew how difficult it was to shoot from Dragon back. She could feel them losing. Though, it didn't hurt as much as she'd expected.

We tried, she thought as she resumed her hacking. We tried.

***

He knew the battle was lost. He could feel it, see it as more white walkers appeared from nowhere and rushed into the cloud of steel and fur and snow. He felt helpless, standing atop the wall and firing arrows he knew only met its mark half the time. But he could do nothing about it and that's what bothered him.

He moves back towards the staircase, calculating how long it'd take him to reach the base. Too long, he thought, too much time wasted. He let out a sigh of resignation before running back to the other side and feathering the enemy with arrows.

He could make them out in the crowd. Uncle Rickon and Gendry, Jon Snow, his mother, and Daenerys trying to ward of the Others trying to join the rest. He couldn't stay up here, he knew. He had to do something. Securing the bow to his back along with a quiver of dragon glass arrows, he perched himself on the edge of the wall, looking down at the drop that would definitely kill him with one false move. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he whistled as loud as he could, drawing attention to everyone within a 10 foot radius, Bran and Melisandre included. When they saw what he was about to do, Melisandre dragged up her skirts and ran towards the boy as he hurled himself off the wall.

***

The wind felt like blades as it touched his skin. He should have thought about it more, was what ran through his head as he plummeted towards the base. Halfway down he heard the flap of wings and relief spread through his body as he waited for the flash of cream colored scales that would be his salvation.

One, two, three he counted before he found himself in Viserion's claws. The impact of his sudden stop took the breath from him but he didn't complain, it beats splattered against the snow any day. With practiced skill, he found himself positioned on the dragon's back.

He slips in, but unlike the way he's done with Nymeria. With Nymeria it felt like he was one with her, but with Viserion its was just like riding a talking horse. He urged, no asked, Viserion to take him forward and so he did.

The wind felt colder here than atop the wall which he found odd, though, the presence of the white walkers were obviously the reason. He felt himself crouching closer as Viserion gained momentum, trying his best to keep the winter winds from slicing at his face.

They had gone farther than Dany had, and here there were no men of theirs that would be harmed, and so he rained fire.

The feeling of triumph swelled up in Aemon that he only felt it right to yell in victory, but like in every thing else, winning wasn't always that easy. After recovering from the shock of the dragon's arrival the Others picked up their weapon and attacked the dragon. It was easy enough to dodge the sparse arrows they threw at him, but as the forest began to thicken one lucky shot was enough to bring him down.

The wing began to freeze the moment the arrow pierced the skin, making flight too hard a labor for Viserion, causing them to crash into the snow. He was half buried under the dragon's punctured wing, and although there were no Others in sight at the moment, he knew his predicament was dire if he weren't to act fast. 

He was grateful for the fact that he could feel his legs and started kicking when he spotted the first walker. Slowly, they piled into the small clearing, gathering around the two of them in a circle. Viserion burned as much as he could but the numbers were growing and the arrow in his wing appeared to be causing him too much pain.

The air grew heavier the closer they got and Aemon grew more desperate by the second. Finally, pushing out from under the frozen wing, he pulled himself together, stood, then fell. His vision was beginning to dim but he held on to his dragon for support, feeling Viserion's heat providing him energy. He looked around and saw that they've gotten closer, too close. Viserion was snapping at them and torching everyone he could reach but it wasn't enough. He gathered his energy then forced himself to stand and face them.

And when he did, they stopped.


	9. Chapter 9

Midstrike it stopped, as if frozen by the cool wind blowing their direction. Arya took it as an opportunity and began slicing at the stalk-still enemies laid out before her. She brought down ten before they were back in motion, though it seemed fighting had been removed from the agenda. They retreated into the trees, as silent as they, arrived and in a matter of minutes nothing but their heavy breathing and the stench of blood hung in the air.

They disposed of their dead, the dragons lighting the pyre after prayers were said. The living, on the other hand, split ways, some heading to the infirmary to have their wounds tended to, others to the kitchens devouring the food laid out before them by the woman and children that remained out of battle. While Arya and the rest retreated to Jon's solar to discuss the peculiar event.

Everyone was warming themselves by the fire Melisandre had conjured at the center of the room, trying their best to rid themselves of the cold that lingered. Wine was passed around to help warm them up and it was only after two goblets did Arya notice her son's absence.

"Bran? Bran?!" Her voice was shrill with worry as she sought out her brother. "Where is he? Bran, tell me!" She was shaking him now, her eyes wide with madness and desperation.

"He- I... Arya, I don't know." His head was bent, obviously avoiding the pain in her eyes. She felt numb. No, she thought, I kept him safe up there with Bran and Melisandre. He was out of the fight! She thought as she shivered by the fire, tears threatening to spill.

She took deep breaths and wiped away the moisture forming at the edge of her eyes before standing up to head for the door. It took Jon three seconds to figure out what she was doing, ordering everyone to grab hold of her. Shaken as she was, Arya didn't go down without a fight. Knocking down Mance and three other Northmen before they had her bound to her seat.

"Untie me, now!" She wailed as she struggled against her bindings. Kicking at everyone who dared come near and restrain her further.

"I need to find him. You promised me!" Many and more words spilled out of Arya's mouth as her rage flared up. Rickon was trying to hold her down when Nymeria barked at him, forcing him to back away.

"No." Tears she fought so hard to keep at bay spilled as she thought of her son, somewhere out there in the cold. No matter how much of the North was in him, it wouldn't be enough to survive single handed in the harsh wilderness beyond the wall.

"Viserion." Dany blurted out as she stood, edging her way towards Arya. "He has Viserion, Arya, they'll be back."

Arya was about to reply when the door burst open and in came Aegon half walking, half dragged by two of the free folk. His left eye was framed by a deep purple and a trickle of blood ran from his mouth. The men chuckled as they deposited Aegon to the floor.

"Aye, the bastard insisted on joining you. Said he was the king." Another round of chuckles. "I told him the King was upstairs along with the crows."

"Leave him to us." Mance motioned them to leave before Dany could speak, already helping Aegon settle into a chair.

"What's the King doing so far up North?" Mance inquired as he sat himself beside Arya, staring straight at the slumped King of the Seven Kingdoms. "Don't look much respectable in that state now do we, Your Grace?" He asked in a mocking tone before Jon Snow silenced him.

"To what do we owe the honor, Your Grace?" Arya snorted at the way Jon addressed the King, almost forgetting the rope wrapped tightly around her.

"I-" The door opened once more and this time the guests were escorted in a humane manner. Arya rolled her eyes at their politeness, choosing to ignore another bout of intruders when their identity become known.

Arya's eyes widened at the sight of Varys and Arianne standing at the doorway while she sat there tied up. Twisting her arms further behind her back, she grabbed at the dagger tucked in her breeches and cut herself free, then launched herself at Varys. 

The scene shifted from Arya tied to the chair to her standing behind Varys, dagger pressed to his throat as she accused him of two counts of murder. Everyone in the room was silent, waiting for the slip of the dagger that would open up his throat. Arianne inched herself as far away from Arya as possible, her eyes not once leaving the dagger Arya held in her hand.

"If you wanted to kill me, you should have done so yourself." Was all she said before driving the dagger through his mouth, the point sticking out from the back of his neck before pulling it out. Varys pushed his hands to the hole at his neck, trying to block the flow of blood as more leaked through his mouth. His eyes were wide still with shock as Arya dragged his body to the window before pushing it out. Closing the window before gasps were heard from outside as a body landed on someone's lunch.

Arya then turns to face the room full of people eyes locked at Arianne who was now standing behind her husband. Arya sheathed the dagger then pulled out her sword, choosing the needle like blade Gendry had made for her, then stood before the King and Queen, her blade dancing between the two of them.

"Out." Her voice was low and firm as she inched her blade closer, once getting caught in Arianne's sleeve causing it to tear. "Now."

Aegon stands up, hands raised, and the two of them walk out of the room, down the stairs until they reach ground level where Arya urges them out the door, cutting Aegon twice as Arianne took her time opening the door. At this point everyone was following them, spectators to the little show Arya was putting on.

"Touch the coat and you die, princess." Arya smirked as Arianne retracted her hand and moved into the icy air with nothing but her dress. A shiver racked through her body, and Aegon, gallant as ever, removed his cloak and draped it over Arianne's shoulders. Earning Arya a smug look from the Dornish woman. Before Arya could make another move the sound of a horn filled the air. Once, twice, three times.

Meals, wounds, and any more moves to humiliate were forgotten as men scrambled for their weapons preparing for another battle. Arya pushed past Aegon only to be dragged back, his hands holding her forearm in a tight grip.

"What's happening?" He asked.

"Why, dear husband, winter is coming." She pulled out of his grasp and went to rejoin her brothers who were heading for the gates. Halfway there the sound of wings were heard and Viserion loomed before them, flying twice around before landing. Aemon hopped off.

The smile that was previously on his face was wiped clean the moment he laid eyes on Arianne Martell and Aegon standing by the entrance of the Lord Commander's Tower.

His features changed entirely, a shadow passing over his features, making them darker. His eyes, turned to ice, and like sunlight bouncing off the frozen crystal, his appeared to change color. Grey one moment, an icy blue the second, before turning into a violet as bright and fierce as his father's. 

The direwolves began to stir, as well as the dragons, positioning themselves beside him. There was a spark in his eyes reflected in those of the beasts surrounding him that caused Arianne to press herself closer to Aegon. Earning her a series of growls and hisses from both dragons and direwolves.

Melisandre emerged from the tower doors, her breath coming out in puffs of white smoke as she ran towards the stone still figure at the center of the courtyard, shoving past the couple before standing before Aemon and lifting her hand to caress his cheek. Her touch soft and careful, afraid the man before her might shatter at her touch.

"The long night that never ends has begun." she whispered as her eyes continued to study Arya's son. She then moved to stand beside him, and as if on cue, the dragons release breath after breath of multicolored flames, the colors reflecting as well in Aemon's eyes; blood red, snowy white, and a lush green, the color of wildfire. The ever changing hues seemed to enchant the rest of the onlookers, urging them to edge forward and position themselves at his flank.

His eyes were fierce as he continued to fix his gaze on his father and her false queen. The sight of the army that positioned themselves behind Aemon overwhelmed Arianne. Her greatest fear brought to life.

One step forward.

The sound of ice cracking. 

Another. 

People looked up and what they saw left their mouths hanging open. Lines drew themselves from base to top, a series of webs spreading across the white and blue of the wall. 

One final step. 

A block if ice detached itself, followed by another, until the wall was collapsing upon itself.

Arianne counted in her head, one- two- three- half the wall had fallen and it continued to go on. The cracks stretching in both directions bringing down the ice like a series of dominoes. It took less than a minute.

The wall was a wall no more but mere heaps of ice and stone scattered across the snowy field.

But that wasn't the end of it.

Shadows became visible through the thick fog. Figures climbing over the debris, approaching them at non-human speeds.

It was quicker than the blocks of ice tumbling down one after the other. A breath later and they were visible. Bright blue eyes buried in ice cold faces.

Lumbering after them were rotting flesh. Humans, animals. It didn't matter. Death was unkind to both.

In the midst of the silence that deafened them more than the sound of drums at war, Bran and Melisandre's voice sung in unison. "His is the song of Ice and Fire. the child that was promised."


	10. Chapter 10

Arianne was shaking, her body half hidden behind Aegon's as she avoided the taunting eyes of her husband's son. They looked empty, devoid of emotion, and yet they seemed to attract her, seduce her. She closed her eyes, hoping it would end the urge to approach him, but it didn't. Despite the darkness she submerged herself into, the nagging feeling remained. She tried distracting herself, thoughts flashing back to the children she had sent away to Dorne. She heard a gasp and looked up, seeing the mischievous grin, so much like his father's, illuminating Aemon's features.

And it was at that moment that Arianne learned the true meaning of fear.

A cold voice tickled her ears as the winter wind continued to breeze past, Aegon's cloak doing nothing to shield her from the icy air.

"You will know how it feels to lose what you love. To have it stripped from you like you have no right." It was a hiss, sharp but low, it could have easily been mistaken for the wind or a slight of the mind, but seeing the boy's lips move in sync with the words that once plagued her destroyed the seeds of doubt.

No one budged at the words that escaped her lips, not even Aegon reacted and she wondered if this was yet another sorcery the boy has performed. Her eyes swept through the crowd, besides the Starks and Daenerys standing beside the boy, everyone was a stranger, a face she'd sooner not forget but will be forgotten.

She felt something curl itself around her arms, her legs, her neck. She couldn't move, couldn't breath. Her vision began to dim and she held on to Aegon for support, feeling her energy dwindle and leave altogether. Standing became to much of a task and she was kneeling on the snow covered ground. Everything began to pulse, black and white, black and white. She felt her husband kneel down beside her. Saw his lips move to form her name as her eyes came in and out of focus until he disappeared all together.

It was pitch black before a beam of light appeared at the center of the room, forming a circle where her children were pushed to, the youngest stumbling and scraping her chin. She wanted to reach out, help her up and tell her it was okay. But she couldn't. She still felt the coils wrapped around her neck and limbs like a chain of smoke, hard and cold but barely there.

Her daughter was crying, the blood trickling from her chin. It was worse than she first thought, not the abrasion she had expected but rather the skin was completely scraped off, and the child began to wail. Her eldest tried to comfort her sister, tearing a strip from her gown to staunch the wound. But it was no use. Blood continued to flow.

The middle child began to cry as well, which Arianne found unusual. Her daughter never cried. Not when she poked herself with a needle, o when she was thrown of a horse. She was sobbing into her hand, and her sister, ever the dutiful eldest daughter, was pulling at her hands asking her what the matter was.

She removed her hands from her face and Arianne gasped at the sight. Her eyes had gone. Only black pits remained as thick red liquid ran down her cheeks like tears.

Arianne had enough. She was fighting against her invisible restraints, pushing herself closer to her children. No, she tried to scream but only the sound of her daughters' despair could be heard within the chamber. She was weeping with them now. Holding out her hand, she reached out for them, calling out their names. Her eldest paused from comforting her sisters, then looked up.

She was looking at her, at Arianne, and Arianne began calling out more desperately than before, still no sound leaving her lips. Her daughter stood and step by step approached her mother. Her every step was measured, cautious, as if only darkness lied ahead of her and she was afraid to trip and fall. She stopped a few inches out of Arianne's reach and lifted her hand, resting them on an invisible wall.

A curious expression was painted on her face as she felt around for something, what, Arianne had no clue. But she watched as her daughter pressed her ear against the wall, then tapping it, hitting it, pushing it. She was trying to get past, she thought. She's trying to escape. She fought harder against her restraints and this time felt the grips loosen. The distance between them lessened until she was face to face with her daughter still searching for a way out.

There was no more moving the ties the held her back and so she watched, watched and waited. A shadow seemed to stir at the edge of her vision and once again fear crept up inside her. It wasn't a shadow, but three. One belonged to Varys, one to the knight she once sent to Winterfell, and the last to a man whose face changed from one to another. They approached her daughters one-to-one. And the moment they pulled blades from their sleeves she cried.

"No!" She screamed as the blades were positioned at her daughters' necks, this time her voice reverberated through the room. Varys held her eldest by the hair, an apologetic look on his face. She shook her head, no, she mouthed as the other two held her daughters' head back, exposing their necks to the blade. They were weeping still, blood still flowing from eyes and chin.

"For the realm." Her daughter's blood splattered across her face as Varys dragged the blade across her neck. She watched them fall one by one, blood pooling around their bodies, the men disappearing as their corpse thumped to the ground.

"No!" Tears were beginning to obscure her sight but the image of her daughters lying in a pool of their own blood was burned i her memory. "My children. My children!"

***

Arya didn't know what was happening to Arianne, but knew that it was causing her pain. Seeing her convulse and shriek would have satisfied Arya any day, but today wasn't that day. She knew how it felt to be a mother, the desire to care and protect your children. And by the way she pleaded as if they were being murdered in front of her made her insides turn.

She didn't know how but she knew this was Aemon's doing. Aemon, the quiet child who never believed, and when he saw was easy enough to forget. Well, that would have been how it looked from the outside. He was her son after all, Arya reborn as a boy as Bran put it, and Arya never forgot.

She placed her hand on Aemon's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then silence. Arianne's shrieks had ceased as she lay motionless on the snow, Aegon trying to awaken her, shaking her and yelling out her name. Still she didn't move.

***

There was a flash of red then the room darkened altogether and then she found herself back in the present, melted snow seeping into her dress, her husband yelling her name as he shook her by the shoulders. She felt cold, cold and numb, and outright terrified. She couldn't explain what she saw, but knew that it must have come from all seven hells.

Weak as she was, she tried to lift up her head and peer at Aemon. 

A gasp. 

A smirk.

There was evil in his eyes. Eyes that were once a reflection of Arya's, grey and strong and clever, but now reminded her of the imp. One ruby red, the other as blue as the stormy seas.

She wondered where it had appeared, the black cloud looming over them.

A flash of lightning.

Thunder.

An earthquake.

It was happening too fast. First, she was on the ground and the next thing Aegon had her in his arms, running away as the ground began to give out from beneath them, gaping holes trailing after them as they tried to escape.

The wind blew hard and twice they almost fell. She wanted to free Aegon of his burden and run herself but she couldn't. Whether it was the cold that numbed her limbs or the image of her children being murdered didn't matter, what did was that because of her they might end up dying.

She dared look back and watched in awe as the lightning silhouetted Aemon with his army behind him. It looked like something out of a book. The kind of books her daughters would read about knights saving princesses. Though this time, no princesses will be saved, in fact no one can be saved.

***

Her eyes widened as the a storm began to brew overhead, lightning flashed and thunder echoed in the silence. Then the ground opened up, ready to swallow them whole.

No one from their side of the field moved, and nothing touched them. All around, towers were being struck and brought to flames, animals falling into the pit, and cracks running towards Aegon and Arianne as they tried to flee. It was useless, Arya thought, as she watched Aegon ran with Arianne held against his chest.

She thought it misplaced, the throbbing in her chest, but it was there as she watched Aegon's shoulder's rise and fall in heavy breathing strained from the effort of carrying Arianne while he tried to save their lives. Though she never let it show on her face.

***

His breathing grew heavier with every step and she knew he couldn't keep at it any longer.

"Leave me." She yelled over the roar of thunder, making herself heard.

"No." His eyes were focused on the ground when he replied, his voice worried and desperate.

"Please. It'll be easier. And the children. You have to save the children. I saw things Aegon. I- I don't want any of it happening. Please."

He shook his head at her, his eyes distant, lost in thought while he managed to navigate between falling debris. She watched him as he worked, saw how he was heaving for air, his arms shaking under her. And then he dropped her, though still kept an one arm around his waist.

A whistle.

Silence.

Then the flap of wings.

The green dragon landed a few steps ahead and took off immediately the moment they managed to climb on its back. She heard it his once or twice as she tried to position herself on its back was too preoccupied to mind. Watching as the ground she stood on moments before gave way, the earth plummeting into a dark abyss.

The rain was replaced by an onslaught of snow, chilling her to the bone. The wind slashed at her face as the dragon gained speed. This time she dared not look back. Afraid something or someone would be in pursuit of them. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself and failed when she heard the whispers of the wind.

"I will take what is mine." Was the last thing she heard before she finally lost consciousness.


End file.
